Page 89 of Truce: Declan
The kid is a genius.
Charlotte provides the driver with Abbi’s address before we head away from the ice rink.
“Great game tonight,” Landon says.
He probably listened to the game on the radio while waiting for me. I’ve offered to get him tickets, but he never accepts any gifts. He works for a company, so I’ve always assumed it had been against their rules to receive anything other than a tip.
“That was so much fun!” Abbi shouts from the back seat. “First and best hockey game ever.”
“You did great out there on the ice tonight,” Charlotte says, smiling, her gaze locked on mine.
My breath catches in my throat. The sparkle in her gaze sets my body on fire. She watches me like she wants to devour me, but she hasn’t so much as touched me since that fiery kiss.
I have to remember to keep my dick in check. There’s a kid in the backseat, and Charlotte and I are still on shaky ground.
I’ve managed to forgive her. It would be nice if she’d extend the same courtesy.
What I did wasn’t nearly as bad as what she did, although Kyler kept me from making things worse at the charity event. I have him to thank later for that, when Charlotte does forgive me because, eventually, she will. She has to. I won’t give up until we’ve set things right between us.
Even if nothing transpires between us again, we will run into each other. She’s best friends with Amber, who is dating my best friend.
We make our way to Abbi’s home, and Charlotte climbs out, walking Abbi to her front door. She makes sure that she relinquishes Abbi to her foster parents before returning to the vehicle.
“Where to?” the driver asks.
I start to give Landon Charlotte’s address when she rests a hand on my arm and stops me. “How about we go to your place? Talk. Plus, I’m sure you’re eager to see Zayn,” Charlotte says.
“Thanks.”
Landon heads toward my place. The air in the back of the vehicle is thick with tension.
She wants to come over to talk. Is that code for sex? Knowing Charlotte and her fiery mouth, probably not. But at least when we’re done arguing, hopefully, quiet enough not to wake Zayn, I can go to bed.
“Good game tonight,” Charlotte says.
“You said that already.” I smile half-heartedly.
She nods and purses her lips. “You unblocked me as a contact. At least, I assume you did since you texted me recently. Thank you for the flowers,” Charlotte says and then emits a heavy breath like it took all her energy to say that simple sentence.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for being at the custody hearing.”
A silence follows, but it’s calmer, more serene, and I reach for her hand. Charlotte offers it to me, opening her palm and threading our fingers together.
“Abbi’s a sweet kid,” I say, surprised that Charlotte took her to a game.
“Yeah, that kid has been through a lot.”
“I assumed as much, when she mentioned her foster parents.”
Charlotte nods. “Yeah, many of the kids I work with have rough backgrounds. Parents who are addicts or working three jobs to keep a roof over their heads. They’re the latchkey kids without an older sibling at home. Most can’t even afford the hockey equipment, so we try to provide them with what we can through donations or used gear.”
“I could talk to the team and see if we could donate some gear we no longer use,” I offer.
She smiles weakly. “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure your feet are too big, and your hockey stick is taller than some of my kids.”
“You think my stick is big,” I joke, nudging her. She laughs, which I consider a huge win. “So, what do you do with the kids?”
“I run the hockey and beginner’s ice-skating classes.”
